Thank You to the Thirsty

Thanks to all of you who attended the debut of our tea and coffee tour on Saturday afternoon.  Special thanks to the Grimeses, Joan, the McCurleys, Rebecca, the Rowes and the Woodards for their support!

The "A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar" Tour Kickoff

Randy Foster and I will kick off our coffee house tour this Saturday at The Coffee Beanery in Franklin, Tenn!  We will be reading our bitter and sweet, naughty and nice poems about tea and coffee.  Come and enjoy a performance dripping with disdain and delight!  Copies of our brand new chapbook, Sugar and Spice and Nothing That's Nice, will be available for purchase, as well as Coffee Beanery's delicious assortment of sandwiches, drinks and desserts.

The "A Poet and a Politician Walk into a Coffee Bar" Tour
Saturday, May 14th, from 2 to 3 p.m.
The Coffee Beanery
1010 Murfreesboro Road
Franklin, TN  37064
(615) 790-9553

We hope to see you there!

Thank You

Thanks to all of you who attended Women's Work this afternoon. Special thanks to Greg, Joan, Joy, Julie, Lindsay, Melissa, Rachel, Randy, Rebecca and Sarah for their support!

Poetry Performance This Sunday

I will be presenting some of my poetry this Sunday at Nashville's fifth annual Women's Work festival. Come and enjoy an afternoon of original poetry and spoken word presented by lovely lady poets!

Sunday, May 8, at 2:30 p.m.
Z. Alexander Looby Theater
Looby Branch Library
2301 Rosa L. Parks Blvd.
Nashville, TN
$5

For more information or to purchase tickets in advance, visit the Tennessee Women's Theater Project online.

Tennessean Covered Women's Work

The Tennessean ran a story on this month's Women's Work festival yesterday and I was lucky enough to be included in the piece!

National Poetry Month comes to a close

On this, the last day of National Poetry Month, I wanted to repost one of my answers to the question "Why write poetry?"

The Reason I Write Poetry

I notice things --
everything.

Then I get

lost in thought

about them --

why they're done,

how often

and by whom --

sometimes

at the most

inopportune times --

during a meeting

with a co-worker,

my tax advisor

or the dentist.

And then I feel

the need to

capture my thoughts

on paper --

so I won't forget them.

And, on most days,

I have just enough

arrogance

to share what I've

put into writing

with someone else,

perhaps to validate

that I'm, in fact, alive.

Brand New Poetry Chapbook Out Today

My fourth chapbook, a collection of tea and coffee poems co-authored by my friend and fellow poet Randy Foster, is available as of today!  Sugar and Spice and Nothing That's Nice: Where Bitter Meets Sweet features naughty and nice pieces about caffeinated beverages that will have you buzzing with delight!  To find out how you can purchase your copy of Sugar and Spice, contact me at hall_amy_e@hotmail.com.  Drink well!

Poached by an Egg

Finished the last of
the hard-boiled eggs
this morning and
stabbed my thumb --
the shell shards
actually drawing blood.
I never knew
Easter eggs could
be so violent.

Happy National Poetry Month!

In honor of National Poetry Month, I'm rerunning an oldie, but a goodie.

When I Read a Good Poem

When I read a good poem,
I hold
each
word
for a
moment
in my mouth
before
---- moving
on to the next one, like
one
bite
of creme brulee
after
another.

Women's Work 2011

I've been invited to present my poetry at the fifth annual Women's Work festival on Sunday, May 8th. More details to come!

(talking to herself)

talking to herself
two stalls down -- no Bluetooth
headset in sight

Vowels and Bowels

I hate it when

you know you're

going to have to

poop soon, but not yet,

and you're on your way

to work

(or a court date

or a TV interview).

You know it's coming

soon, but you don't know

how soon.

You could be

in the middle of a

sentence in meeting

when, suddenly,

your stomach begins

to churn and

your bowels begin

to burn.

You can't always

escape to a restroom

the moment you need one.

You try to smile and

continue your interview

(or conference call

or cross examination)

with some modicum

of decorum, but

all you can think of is

"POOP!"

All you want to do

is find a nice,

secluded stall

and let it fly.

Instead, you're stuck

in a light brown room

expected to string turds

(I mean words)

together intelligently

with a pile

(I mean smile).

(such a young woman)

such a young woman
wearing such an old fragrance

While Listening to Julie Lee's "The Other Half"

Which version do you like best?

(original version)

I got chills
when I heard
your voice.
And then my eyes
began to water.
A tiny firework
went off
in my heart.
And then
the muted trumpet
came in.
I closed my eyes
and got lost.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(alternate version)

The sparse
guitar work
set the mood.
I took a deep breath.
And then
the muted trumpet
came in.
I got chills
from my shoulders
to my ankles
when I heard your voice.
My eyes
began to water
and a tiny
firework
exploded somewhere
in my chest.
I shook my head,
closed my eyes
and got lost.

You can check out Julie Lee's music here.

Untimely Departure (Cat Got Your Dung)

Sometimes
Mother Nature calls
at the most
inopportune times.
I get up early
so that I can
get to work early.
But Mother Nature
interrupts my plan
with an exit strategy
of her own.
Once I honor her urging
and take a seat,
just a few moments
into our session,
she decides to be
difficult and stubborn.
My extra minutes

waste away

and my momentum slows
to a screeching
halt.

I will not be

early today
thanks to the delay
down under.
I am stalled
and stuck
and stationed
on the stool
for as long as it takes
for Mother Nature
to drop her kids off
at the pool.
And eventually,
once I finally
arrive at work,
I search for a
truthful, yet tactful
explanation for my
late state of affairs.
I could say,
"Traffic was stuck;
nothing was moving."
But, I settle on
"an urgent call
from my mother"
and leave it at that.

The Hall Sisters: Circa 1994

We knew our

whole world

was about to change.

I cried the entire

four-hour trip

to campus

and the two of you

held each other
in the living room

all morning.

We were

letting go of life

as we knew it,

knowing that we

would survive

the changes ahead
but not knowing
exactly how.

We had been together

all of our lives --

through every move,

in every new house

and every new city.

We shared friends and

hobbies and teachers.

Now we would be

in different states

with 207 miles between us.

I opened your letters

like beautifully

wrapped packages

and read each one

between nose blowing

and cheek dabbing.

I think I used

an entire box

of Kleenex

driving up to Michigan,

thankful that I didn't

decide to go to school

in Portland.

Just One of Those Things

It's strange --
funny, really --

that one

woman can

walk into

the restroom,

lock her

stall door,

create a

mammoth sound

from one

tiny hole,

and walk

out of

the bathroom
in silence.

Holy Sit

When I take my seat
in the bathroom,

I am participating

in one of the most basic,

yet marvelous

human functionalities.

We have been created

with a remarkable

self-cleaning service.

(Who but a master

designer would have

conceived of this?)

So, when I sit

on the john and

take a dump,

something holy

is happening.

I am at once

connected to the

brother and sister hoods

of the earth

and to God.

Jitters

It didn't last long.
And I'm sure

the sterile, hospital-

flavored walls and

floors didn't help.

The java joint's decor

was more akin

to a church

romper room

than a hip, cozy hang.

Failures aside,

every time I pass

that office space

in my college town,

I remember the

Styrofoam cups of

espresso I drank there

with my rock

band buddies

as we played

Uno and laughed

'til closing time.

(orange passion fruit)

orange, passion fruit;

jasmine green tea -- like sipping

sunshine in a cup